Amelia’s POV
The morning feels lighter than the last, though I am not sure if it is the sunlight spilling through the curtains or the quiet relief settling in my chest after last night’s conversation with Ryan. For days, I had rehearsed it in my head, turning over the words I would use, bracing myself for the storm I thought would follow when I finally told him about Alex. I thought his anger would flare, sharp and unyielding, that the mention of Alex’s name would pull old scars to the surface and reopen wounds that never truly healed. But instead, Ryan surprised me. He was not angry.
Shocked, yes. Quiet, contemplative, his silence filled with memories of a friend turned enemy, of a bond that Elsa broke beyond repair, but not anger, not the kind that would burn my plan to ashes before it
